


Shake My Ash to the Wind

by RivRe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (Clint is always lingering even when hes not there), (Cookies also linger but they don't last long), F/M, Fluff and Angst, slow-build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1857705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RivRe/pseuds/RivRe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"This is more personal."</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Since when do you do personal?” He was still standing in the doorway, watching her open the package and pop a preservative-filled chocolate chip cookie in her mouth.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Since I decided you’re going to teach me how to fly.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> <br/>Natasha moves into Sam's guest room. She isn't quite the same open book that he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Rated T for kisses and angst, basically.)
> 
> Special thanks to [Crystal](fermatas-theorem.tumblr.com) for helping me deal with my Samtasha crisis, and feeding me plot-bunnies and words of encouragement.
> 
>    
> [I have a Samtasha meta-ish thing on Tumblr, if you want to see it.](http://jamessebastianbarnes.tumblr.com/post/88677157967/samtasha)
> 
>    
> Title is, of course, courtesy of Mumford & Sons. The song is Lover's Eyes, and it's pretty much one of several Samtasha songs (to me, at least).

Somewhere over Sam’s shoulder, something exploded. He glanced back to make sure nothing was hurtling after him. Steve, running beside him, must have used his sonic super-human powers to check, or something. Sam wondered if there was a third eye hidden under that helmet. (He’d seen those pictures of Johann Shmidt. He wasn’t taking any chances.)

Initially, it was just recon. But that wasn’t Natasha’s style.

The three of them were sent to infiltrate one of the last remaining HYDRA bases, gain some intel on it, then Stark, who had basically commandeered whatever was left of “the not completely megalomaniacal part of this shindig,” would send in the troops. He and Agent Hill were working round the clock to keep things as organized and un-evil as possible, though Sam heard that they spent more time arguing about “team players” and “12%”s than actually getting things done.

Something else exploded. Sam launched himself in the air to check the damage.

Natasha was engaged with six Hydra members. Sam fleetingly considered offering her a hand, but the thought passed faster than it came. The only one she let have her back was Barton, apparently, who Sam still hadn’t met in person. Apparently he was off battling dangerous Australian wildlife or something, which Natasha had assured him wasn’t code. She also told him that Barton had complained bitterly about being trapped in the middle of nowhere while they were off doing _interesting_ things.

Another explosion. Sam wondered just how dangerous this wildlife was, and would Barton be willing to consider a trade?

Steve whistled sharply, and Sam saw him standing on a pile of soldiers, pointing to a copter headed their way. It looked like it was Stark’s, but considering the kind of luck the Avengers usually had, Sam was hesitant. While they were infiltrating, someone had put a bomb on their own ride, and when they found the rubble, all they could do was use the remnants to manufacture a few explosives of their own.

Another whistle, and Sam dropped down to join Steve. “That ours?” He had to shout, since his comm. had gone down about ten minutes into the fight. Steve nodded.

The copter hovered above them, and a rope ladder swung down. “I’ll get Widow,” Sam offered. She was still off fighting the endless flow of soldiers, and her comm. had also gone offline. Stark Industries really needed to upgrade those things.

Steve hesitated, but then nodded and started to climb up. Sam took a second to watch him scale the rope like a monkey (he thought fondly of the videos he’d seen in the Smithsonian, the ones of pre-injection Steve struggling during his training), and then half-flew, half-soared, over to Natasha just as she knocked the last guy unconscious. Sam didn’t have time to count how many men lay around her.

As they were heading back to the copter, the rope ladder caught fire. It was that Avengers luck again, Sam decided. Definitely the Avengers luck.

The copter had cut the rope, and it hit the ground with a thud. “Hold on tight.” Sam had to shout directly into Natasha’s ear. They jumped in unison, grabbing each other as they carefully maneuvered towards the copter, Sam doing his best to avoid the chopper’s choppers.

Tony himself was piloting their ride, and he offered a “howdy” as soon as Sam slammed the door shut behind them. It was significantly quieter with the doors closed, that was for sure. Stark Tech was, apparently, investing in muffling. Sam pulled out his broken comm. Maybe a little too muffled.

“I was telling Tony,” Steve said once they’d buckled in. “The last time I was flying over a battle zone with a Stark, it was 1943.”

“You’re an old man, Steve. Get passed it.” Natasha rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m only 95!”

She looked at Sam, rolled her eyes again. “Nice flying.”

“Thanks. I take it you haven’t used too many aircrafts that didn’t have six sides?”

She stretched her arms above her head, rolling her shoulders. “The Chitauri aircrafts are significantly rockier.”

“Probably because you were flying it through an invasion,” Steve supplied.

Sam felt instantly affronted. “Yeah, well there was some invading involved here, too!” Natasha laughed at him.

Up front, Stark answered a call from the tower. “I told you, Hill, my team, my tower.” Sam heard her shout something about “my resources.” Stark sighed. “Twelve. That’s all I’m offering. See you in a few hours. JARVIS, end call.” A moment later— “JARVIS, put her on airplane mode.”

“More like ‘copter mode,” Sam mumbled. Natasha shoved him.

 

 

Agent Hill was waiting for them, tapping her foot. Sam could see the indecision in Stark’s eyes as they hovered above the tower’s landing platform. “You guys feel like jumping?” Tony asked.

Before Natasha could tell him to man up, as Sam knew she wanted to, JARVIS flipped communications back on to let Pepper through, and her sharp voice carried to the back of the ‘copter as she told Tony to grow up and land. He did, reluctantly.

Steve shooed the two of them out of their seats. “Come on, let’s get out of the way before this gets really messy really quickly.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So good news, I finished writing the fic last night! (Yaaayyyyy) It still needs polishing and fine-tuning and stuff, but I'm going to try to do two updates a week, at least. (If I don't, you can always come nag me.)

Sam leaned against the door, breathing hard as he heard it click into place behind him. He’d only been out of DC for a few days, but he already felt like the morning jog was worse than usual. Kicking off his shoes, he made his way to the kitchen to find a bottle of water. He yanked his sweat-drenched shirt over his head.

There was a noise coming from the living room. Sam must have left the TV on this morning after checking the weather. Still holding his shirt in one hand and his water bottle in the other, he headed over to turn it off.  
  
Someone was sitting on the couch. Sam gave a surprisingly unmanly yelp, yanking his sweaty shirt up to his bare chest. Natasha snorted and flipped the TV off. “Nothing good on anyways.” She unfolded herself from the couch and straightened up, hands on her hips. “Wilson.”  
  
“Romanoff.” He was confused and slightly apprehensive. The Black Widow scared him more than a little bit, and he had no qualms about admitting it. “Good morning.”  
  
“Morning.” She eyed his shirt, still concealing his chest, and raised her eyebrows. Sam lowered it, slowly.  
  
“Are you getting chased by evil Nazis again?”  
  
“What?” The eyebrows rose farther.  
  
“I mean, last time you showed up unannounced, you almost got blown to bits, so…”  
  
“Oh yeah, that.” She pushed passed him to the kitchen, and he watched her open the cabinet and lean down, looking for something. “No, this is more personal.” She straightened up holding a package of cookies.  
  
“Since when do you do personal?” He was still standing in the doorway, watching her open the package and pop two preservative-filled chocolate chip cookies into her mouth.  
  
“Since I decided you’re going to teach me how to fly.”  
  
Sam took the package of cookies away before she took a third one. “How about we eat breakfast first?” He sealed it and put it back in the cabinet. “Real breakfast.”  
  
She acquiesced.  
  
Sam made pancakes, a huge pile dripping with maple syrup and filled with chocolate chips, given Natasha’s seeming affinity for them. He must have eaten at least twice as many as her, though, and she spent most of the meal playing Temple Run on her thousand-dollar Stark Industry Smartphone. (That’s what he guessed, at least.)  
  
When he finally cleaned up and took everything to the sink, Natasha was almost bouncing from impatience. “So can you teach me how to use the wings now?”  
  
“What’s so urgent?” Sam leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I mean, you’re an Avenger. You don’t need a pair of wings to make the world worship you.”  
  
“I want to fly,” she insisted. “So can you teach me, or not?”

Sam had a feeling the “or not” part would involve him teaching her anyway, though it would be decidedly less pleasant. “It’s not that simple. I spent months learning how to use the wings, and making them work to my needs. The wings and I are one, we can’t just—”

“Ugh, you’re starting to sound like Tony. Remind me not to let him take you on missions for a while.” She stood up. “I can do a lot, yeah, but I want to know how to fly the wings. And I’m not just any soldier, it’s not going to take me months to learn.” He hesitated. “When do we start?”  
  
Sam studied her. Natasha was standing in the middle of his kitchen in jeans and a hoodie, hands on her hips and legs apart, trying to take control of the room. Sam couldn’t say that it wasn’t working at all. She was glaring at him, eyebrows raised in judgment. Her hair was curly again.  
  
“We start,” he finally said, “after I shower and get dressed. But I have some prep work for my VA session to take care of, so we’re only going to be able to tackle the basic introduction to the basics.”  
  
Natasha relaxed her posture. “Sounds good.”

He gestured back into the living room and headed up the stairs. “Go watch some bad morning TV and try not to eat all of my junk food.”

 

 

When he came down half an hour later with a shirt on, he spotted the empty box of cookies poorly buried in the bottom of the trash can. Natasha was watching Arthur, and she looked fascinated. “See, we never got this kind of stuff in Russia.”  
  
He held up the empty cookie package in response. She just shrugged.  
  
“Okay, come on. Might as well put a dent in the stuff you’ll need to know.”

 

 

For five hours, Nat sat cross-legged on Sam’s back porch, eating cookies and watching him lecture about all of the aspects of the wings that had been pounded into him. Her eyes were kind of unnerving, focused on him the entire time. She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t stand or stretch or even try to touch the wings he was holding, occasionally gesturing at bits of.  
  
Natasha’s phone buzzed in her pocket at one point, but she ignored it. “Only Fury,” she’d said. “He can wait.”

When the Basic Introduction to the Basics finally wound to a close and Sam said he had to go take care of some prep and head down to the VA, Natasha nodded along, but he could tell she wasn’t listening, already calling Fury back.

 

 

A little while later, she walked in on him, sitting at the kitchen table and eating pasta, typing rapidly on his laptop.

“I made pasta,” he said unnecessarily. Natasha took a bowl, pouring tomato sauce in. “So what’s your plan of action, as of now? I’m sure your day trip to DC was great, but I doubt the Basic Introduction to the Basics was enough to quench your thirst for the EXO-7.”

“Fury just needed to discuss a couple of things.” She sat down across from him, and Sam shut the laptop lid. “Unless Maria needs me, I’m off the hook.” Her phone chose that second to buzz, and “Eye of the Tiger” started playing. She rolled her eyes. “Or Barton.” Natasha held it up to her ear. “Clint, what can I do for you?” Sam heard someone scream in the distance. “Yeah, sure. Just a second.” She reached over and dragged Sam’s computer across the table. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. “Yeah. Alpha-28-George. I’ll talk to you later.” Another scream cut short as she hung up. “He only has two hands.”

“So what? You’re his Australian Wildlife Fact Checker?”

“Sometimes.” She smiled softly. “How’s the prep work going?” She gestured with her fork at the Word document he’d left open.

“Hard, you know?” Sam tried not to sigh like a weary old man, he liked to leave that up to Steve. He didn’t completely succeed. “You can come tomorrow, if you want. We always find some more folding chairs somewhere if we ever—”

“I’m fine. I don’t have PTSD. Thanks for the offer.” She stood up quickly.

“I read your file.” She stopped. Sam almost wished he could take that back. Almost.

“Which version of it?” Natasha still had her back turned. Her voice had dropped several degrees.

“The official SHIELD version, pre-Hydra. I figured it’s not my place to go snooping through all of your covers and whatever, but what I did see is pretty jarring. No one would blame you. Hey, the battle of New York itself was enough to rock anyone’s world. Just take a look at Stark.”

She walked away quickly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that I'd give you two updates last week, and I didn't, and I'm so sorry! Here, have a long chapter to make up for it.
> 
> Oh! And I just made a tumblr, **shakemyashupdates.tumblr.com** , so if you don't want to subscribe here on ao3, you can just follow on tumblr and I'll let you know when there's a chapter update!

Natasha hadn’t asked to stay the night. She hadn’t needed to. Sam always enjoyed company, however surly and/or snarky it might be.

She was awake already when he knocked on her door at dawn, and she called for him to come in. Sam peaked around the door.

Natasha was hanging upside down in the closet, legs hooked over the bar, her hands crossed over her chest as she lifted herself up. Sam tried not to stare at the sight of her in leggings and a sports bra, practically naked compared to how he usually saw her.

“I’m brewing coffee,” he offered. She nodded, counting under her breath. “You might want to come have some before you launch into your impossible Russian training regime thing.”

She swung down, ponytail flicking across her face. “I’ve just finished.” She yanked a t-shirt on and followed him back into the kitchen, where the pot had filled up. “I usually go straight into exercise after getting out of bed.”

Sam made a noise of horror. “That’s probably illegal, Romanoff. Or at least it should be.” He handed her a cup and guzzled his own down. “I’m going for my run. Unless you’re that bored, I’ll see you in half an hour.” He headed upstairs to change out of his pajamas, and Nat was waiting for him, shorts and sneakers on, when he came back down.

She was much less infuriating to run with than Steve.

 

“Are you coming down to the VA?” Sam was stacking up his papers. They had just finished their second EXO-7 session. “If you say no I’m hiding all the cookies; I still need those.”

“I have things to do, so your cookies are safe. I’ll walk you though.” She was on her phone, texting Clint, barely glancing up while they walked outside and started down the block. “How long are these meetings, usually?”

“Well, the session’s only about an hour, sometimes an hour and a half. But I work at the desk, too, for a few hours.”

“So you’re a secretary.” She was laughing at him, he could tell.

“Only until 6:30.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and Natasha was already dialing a number as she dropped him off at the VA entrance. He offered a wave, but she was already gone.

 

6:31, Natasha walked into the VA and leaned against the desk, watching him scribbling down a memo while making noises of agreement into a phone. He grinned widely when he noticed her, and finished his conversation. “Here to escort me home?” He stood up and grabbed his bag. “I feel like I have my own personal security guard.”

“Hey, most people would pay top dollar for a security guard like me.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“How was your session?”

“Interesting. One guy stood up in middle of my speech and started throwing some chairs around. Before I could say anything, though, he broke down crying and wouldn’t stop for the rest of the meeting.”

“That must be hard to handle.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s got their own piles of crap to deal with, and they all handle it differently.”

“But to have to watch a grown man cry...” She shook her head.

“ Happens to the best of us. Hey, I’ve done it more times that I can remember. At least he’s letting it out, not bottling it all up inside.” They were almost at his place, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence as the sun set behind them, their shadows stretching long.

 

Two weeks later, they had settled into a comfortable routine. Natasha would get up at a godforsaken hour and forget to put anything into her stomach until Sam woke up and forced her to caffeinate, and then they would run for half an hour, eat breakfast, and head out for the day. Sam never asked what Natasha was always doing; he wasn’t sure if he’d get an answer.

The weather was getting colder, and the sun was setting earlier and earlier every day. They were walking home from the VA, streetlamps already on and illuminating their path, when a figure melted from the shadows and pulled a knife on them. He couldn’t have been more than seven or eighteen, and it was almost amusing to watch Natasha grab his pocket knife and pin him against a brick wall before he’d even managed to finish demanding their wallets.

Natasha pulled the knife from the kid’s hand, but Sam spoke up before she could threaten him in any way. “Money, right? That’s all you need?” He pulled his wallet out and counted out some bills. “Forty bucks should hold you over for a few days, right?”

Natasha relaxed her grip, staring at Sam in shock as he held out the bills. The kid looked ready to bolt, but Sam just shook his head.

“Don’t worry, kid. We’re not going to hurt you, you can relax.” He wagged the money in his direction, but the teen just stared at him. He must have figured it was a trick or something, and if he took the cash Sam would pull out a gun and shoot him in the head. “It’s fine,” Sam insisted. “No harm, no fowl. If you’re not stupid about it, this should be able to fetch you a few good meals. Sorry it’s all I got.”

Sensing that he wasn’t about to get killed or arrested, the mugger slowly reached out. Once he had the bills firmly between his fingers, he pulled back quickly, shoving the money into his pocket. He tried to bolt, but Natasha was still gripping the shoulder of his t-shirt, her eyes carefully following Sam’s movements.

There was terror written all over the teenager’s face, but Sam wasn’t done yet. He shoved his wallet back into his jeans, and pulled his jacket off. “The weather’s about to get real bad.” He tossed the jacket, and the kid caught it, stared at the supple leather in his hands. “That should work out for you for a little while. If you need anything else, stop by the VA, I’ve got a front desk shift most days. Okay?”

He waited, and after a few minutes the kid nodded.

“Let’s go, Romanoff.” He gestured with his head in the direction they were heading before, back to the house. She carefully removed her hands from the teenager, and he bolted, gone before Sam could get another word in. He picked up the knife that Natasha had dropped and kicked away, flipping it shut and sticking it in pocket, beside his wallet. “Come on, it’s getting late.”

Natasha was silent for a few minutes as they continued walking home, and Sam could see the confusion on her face, even though she was trying to hide it. He could see it in the way she nibbled at her bottom lip, and her eyes darted to him every few minutes as she scanned their surroundings.

“Let’s go. Out with it,” Sam finally prompted.

“A little kid tried to mug you, and you went with it, helped him out. Why would you do that?”

“Because that’s not what he was doing.” She waited for him to elaborate. “He’s what? Seventeen? Eighteen? That wasn’t a mugging. That was a cry for help.”

“So you gave him all your cash?”

Sam shrugged and pulled out his keys as they headed up his front walk. “He didn’t strike me as the druggie type. Hopefully it’ll help him more than it would help me. And honestly?” He held the door open for her. “Any kid with enough balls to try to mug the Falcon and Black Widow deserves a couple bucks.”

Natasha smirked at that. “I don’t think he would have tried us if he’d known who he was up against.”

“I’ve been to some pretty low places over the years, Romanoff.” He kicked his shoes off. She left hers on, a habit he’d noticed; she wore shoes until she was lying down for bed. “Fortunately I’ve never had to sink that low, and it’s a tragedy that someone so young should fall so far.”

He made his way into the kitchen, but Natasha was still standing in the living room. “What do you want tonight?”

She was quiet for a few minutes, and Sam had to pop his head back in to make sure she was still there. “I’m not hungry.” He was going to protest, but she shook her head before he could and headed off to her room. A few minutes later Sam heard the shower turn on, and he sighed quietly and went to make meatballs and spaghetti.

After he’d finished eating, he stuck his head into Nat’s room, but she was fast asleep. Finding a pen and paper, he scribbled a note and crept in, leaving it on the nightstand by her bed. “ _Meatballs and spaghetti in the fridge. –S_ ’ He prepared a plate for her and put it all away, then headed up for bed. As he was closing the door to his room, he heard another one open, but decided to leave her alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. You can find me lurking in the comments, and also [on Tumblr!](jamessebastianbarnes.tumblr.com)


End file.
